


Domesticity

by kat8cha



Series: Life of Leia [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Pre-TFA, Spoilers, after this everything goes to shit FYI, but I wanted to write a scene where Han and Leia were happy, post-original trilogy, set in the nebulous reaches of 'well they haven't written books to fill this bit up yet', slight spoilers for TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 06:28:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5616895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat8cha/pseuds/kat8cha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leia, frustrated by the Senate's refusal to listen to her, plans a getaway with Han. A snapshot of domestic bliss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Domesticity

“The First Order respects the Galactic Concordance, General.” Chancellor Lien said with narrowed eyes. “Why can’t you?”

Leia bit back a sharp retort. ‘Because they don’t’ would be the response of her teenaged self, would have been how she would have responded to Mon Mothma (but only in private) and it wouldn’t serve her well here. A blistering statement about the New Republic’s faith in the Galactic Concordance and the First Order’s (empty) promises to keep it would only get her one more black mark. It would earn the scorn of the other senators (many of whom already looked down on her) and would be plastered across the holonet (again) in seconds.

“I’ve learned,” she said, carefully, “that being prepared for betrayal is better than being surprised by it.” 

The senate erupts into chatter after that statement, chatter that lasts hours. Chatter that lasts long after Leia has left the building.

She is never more grateful that she didn’t accept Mon’s offer to grant her a senatorial title. Some high ranking Alliance officials did take on the bureaucratic role with little to recommend them but their war record, but all of them had retired the post the second the planets they represented had been able to properly elect someone else. Leia had no home planet to represent and the scattering of Alderaani survivors had yet to coalesce into a singular government. She would represent only herself.

Han smiled at her when she came through the door.

Then he frowned.

“You look worried.”

Leia sighed and reached to touch his face. It was a little more wrinkled, a little grizzled, he had gone a little grey at the temples but then again, so had she. She thought, wistfully, of Ben. She wondered if his childishly clear complexion had become spotted with acne yet.

“I’m not sure I’m doing the right thing.” Was all she could say.

Was she?

Were the First Order really any sort of threat? So few Imperial ships or arms had made it out of the Galactic Civil War but the unknown regions were called that for a reason. Mineral rich worlds could land out there, ripe for the First Order to plunder. There were always those traders and warmongers willing to make money selling weapons to organizations they shouldn’t. How else would the Hutts have stayed in business for so long? How else would the Trade Federation and the Seperatists have been established and allowed to wreak havoc during the sunset years of the old Republic?

Han’s cheek twisted under her touch as he smiled at her. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. “In my eyes, princess, you can never do wrong.” 

She rolled her eyes and pressed a kiss to his mouth. She knew how this would go, he would tease her, she would get riled up and either they would end up in bed or arguing until dinner burned. “Han, I’m serious.”

“I know.” His voice was soft, gentle, and so was his gaze. He was listening, for once. “But your options are limited.”

This was true. She had never missed the old Alliance more. The Senate… well, she could see the cause for so many problems in the old Republic. There were too many levels to go through now, too much space to be crossed, before a problem became apparent. There were too many people to take into account. Most of them were tired of war, tired of fighting, tired of the people in charge making the decision that their lives could and would be sacrificed for some greater good. She could understand it. She was tired of fighting herself. 

But the war wasn’t won.

“I keep telling you,” Han stepped away from her and turned towards the kitchen, “we should just go off on our own for a while. Let the Galaxy figure itself out. They’ll welcome you back with wide open arms once everything goes to poodoo, you know.” He ducked into the kitchen and then peaked out, eyes wide, expression simpering. “Oh, General Organa! You’re our only hope!”

She laughed.

She also almost threw her shoe at him.

“Where’s C-3P0?” She asked instead. Han was likely making another face but he had turned back to their dinner, a simmering pot of ‘something’. She had learned better than to ask what was being cooked. If the story wasn’t outlandish his description was unappetizing. Still, peace time had allowed them all to discover hidden talents.

Han Solo could cook.

“Eh, he’s still plugged in. The language update is taking forever.” 

Han held out a careful spoonful of sauce for her to taste which she did, carefully. He had been known to splatter her clothes ‘accidentally’. The spices and flavors were warm, earthy. A perfect representation of the planet the Senate was currently situated on.

“What if we did go away?” She asked once he had turned away again.

She saw it in his shoulders, his surprise. He hadn’t expected her to think about it.

She wasn’t sure why she was thinking about it.

What if they did go away? Where would they go? What would they do?

“We could…” she drifted off. They could what?

They could go visit Luke, see his temple, see their son. They could visit Kashyyyk, see Chewbacca and his family. They could see things Leia had never seen before, or Han, or visit locations familiar to them both. They could take a ‘vacation’ or a ‘honeymoon’. Something they’d never had the chance to indulge in.

“But we won’t.” Was what Han said. “Tomorrow, you’ll get an urgent message about the First Order or the Republic that needs your undivided attention for months. I’m not exactly the ‘relaxing’ kind of type either. I mean, I’d leave the races behind but…” When he looked at her this time his expression was sad. “But you know you can’t leave the Republic behind for me.” 

It’s the sadness that makes up her mind. “One year.” She promised. “We’ll take a year. We’ll start planning in the morning.”

Han pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” He teased.

She punched him, playfully of course, in the stomach. “Keep it up, moon jockey, and you’ll have more than one.”

They smiled, for one moment filled with light, hope, and a lack of responsibility.

Then, of course, the smoke alarm went off and the moment was broken.


End file.
